


What I Did for Love

by StBridget



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9660791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: Mac's disappointed that Jack didn't get him anything for Valentine's Day.  Jack did; it's just unconventional.





	

**Author's Note:**

> MacGyver is property of CBS and its creators.
> 
> So, for some reason, round about Christmas, the plot bunny of Jack showing his love by shooting someone for Mac popped into my head. I decided to save it for Valentine's Day. Here it is. Enjoy!

“Well, well, well.  What have we here?”

Mac froze at the sound of the voice behind him.

“Turn around and don’t try anything funny, or I’ll shoot.”

Mac debated ignoring him and finishing attaching the IED he was currently planting on a shipment of smuggled weapons.  A shot hitting the ground just to his left disabused him of that idea.  Mac raised his hands and slowly turned to face the man who’d interrupted him, only to find a gun pointed straight at his chest.  That was decidedly not good.  Jack was covering the exit, and Mac couldn’t talk to Riley without potentially getting shot at.  That left him very few options.  He cast his mind and his eyes frantically about, trying to find something to help him, hoping to get out of this with his usual ingenuity, but no brainstorm was forthcoming.  He even resorted to wondering what Jack would do, which led to a pang of regret.  They’d only just started dating, and Mac hadn’t had a chance to tell the other man how he felt yet.  He’d planned to do that tomorrow, Valentine’s Day, at a special dinner at Jack’s favorite steakhouse, assuming they got back in time for their reservation.  Now, Mac was doubting whether he would get back at all.

He pulled his mind away from thoughts about his and Jack’s relationship and back to the problem at hand.  What was he thinking again?  Oh, yes—what would Jack do?  The bigger man would doubtless charge the gunman, relying on superior strength to knock his opponent over.  Mac didn’t have that luxury.  He was quick and agile, sure, but he lacked the sheer physical power to knock over someone bigger than he was, which, in terms of bulk, at least, was practically everyone.  The gunman currently facing him was definitely in that category.

Speaking of which, the man was currently addressing Mac.  “You know, I think I’ll just shoot you anyway.  I’m sure your death won’t be a big loss to the world.”

“You don’t want to do that,” Mac said.  “I’ve got friends.  They’ll come after you if anything happens to me.”  Mac hoped.  He knew there was no chance Jack could get to him in time, not as far away as the exit was, but he should be alerted by the shot.  Mac took some small comfort in the thought that Jack wouldn’t let this guy get away with it.

“I’ll take my chances,” the guy sneered.  Time slowed as Mac watched the man’s finger slowly squeeze the trigger.  He closed his eyes and sent one last silent thought across the aether.  _I love you, Jack_.  The he waited for the shot.

The gunshot rang loudly through the storeroom.  Mac flinched as the bullet tore into his flesh, wincing against the pain.  But it didn’t come.  Wait, he’d just been shot, hadn’t he?  Shouldn’t there be pain?

Hardly daring to hope, Mac slowly opened his eyes to a sight he’d never though he’d see again—Jack, standing a few feet away, gun still raised, and the man who had been just about to shoot Mac lying on the ground, a large hole where the back of his head used to be. 

The adrenalin left Mac in a rush, and he bent over, hands on his knees, trying to steady himself.  He grinned at Jack.  “I could kiss you.”

Jack gave a half-grin back.  “I think that’s my line.”

“I’m borrowing it.”  Mac stood up and suited actions to words, giving Jack a quick peck.  The blond wanted to do more, wanted to kiss Jack until both of them passed out from lack of oxygen, but now wasn’t the time or the place.

Jack pulled away first.  “Time for that later.  We have to get out of here.”  The half-grin was back.  “After all, we have reservations to make.”

Mac smiled back.  “That we do.”

Jack was quiet on the way back, distant.  Mac understood—it wasn’t uncommon after a mission, as Jack pulled himself out of the zone he went into when he became the consummate warrior—but the younger man was still keyed up, still shaken by his close call, and desperately needed to hold his lover close and never let go.

It wasn’t to be.  They reached Mac’s house and paused at the door.  “Want to come in?” Mac offered.

“Not tonight.”  Mac tried to hide his disappointment, but failed miserably.  Jack gave him a kiss, chaste but lingering.  “I just need some time to myself.  Need to get my head together.”

“I understand.”  Mac gave him another kiss before reluctantly turning to go inside.  “See you tomorrow night.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Mac didn’t hear from Jack all the next day.  The blond wanted nothing more than to grab his phone and call, but he let Jack be.  He knew the other man needed space, and he tried not to take it personally.  It wasn’t that Jack didn’t want to spend time with him, he knew, it was just the way he dealt after a mission.  Mac was more tactile.  He might hide his feelings under snark, but Mac felt deeply, needed the touch of others to ground him.  Needed Jack.  And Mac would get him.  He just needed to be patient.

Mac was about ready to crawl out of his skin with need when Jack came to pick him up for their date.  Mac was surprised to see Jack driving his muscle car—Jack only brought it out on special occasions.  Mac had ridden in it only once, maybe twice in the time he’d known Jack.  Knowing the older man cared enough about him to let Mac ride in his precious car went a long way towards reassuring him.

“Nice car,” Mac said when he opened the door.  “Nice guy, too.  You clean up good.”  It was true.  Jack looked good enough to eat in tight black jeans and a black button down with just enough buttons undone to give a glimpse of gloriously toned chest.  Mac couldn’t wait to get his hands on all of it, to run his tongue down Jack’s pecs, to swirl his tongue around Jack’s nipples.  God, he needed that man.  Mac was about ready to say damn the reservations and jump Jack right there.

Jack must have caught the look in Mac’s eye.  The brunet gave his lover a hard kiss, a promise of what was to come, before he broke away.  “Dinner first.  I’m looking forward to a big hunk of meat.”  He caught the feral gleam in Mac’s eyes.  “Steak, dammit!  I meant steak!  What did you think I meant?”

“More hoping,” Mac said.  He grabbed his jacket and followed Jack to the car, hanging back to admire the sleek lines of man and machine.  God, he loved this man.  He just had to tell him.  Mac had plans for that.

Mac waited until they were seated in the restaurant, orders placed, beers in front of them.  He slid a card across the table to Jack.

“What’s this?” Jack asked.

“Open it.”

Jack did.  He read the message, then looked at what was enclosed.  Mac hoped he hadn’t been too mushy.  It was hard to find a card for someone you’d only been dating a short while, harder still when you hadn’t said the L word yet, even though you wanted to so badly your heart could burst.  He must have done okay, though, because Jack smiled as he looked at the scraps of paper that had been in the card.  “Hey, tickets to that concert I wanted to go to!”

“Back stage passes, too,” Mac pointed out.  Jack beamed.  There was an awkward pause.  “You know,” Mac said, finally, “it’s okay if you didn’t get me anything.”  It wasn’t, but Mac wasn’t going to say that.  He wasn’t going to be a girl about this, dammit!  He didn’t need tangible proof of how Jack felt about him.  Except he did.  It was so new, so uncertain, that Mac needed that reassurance.

“Hey, I shot a man for you.  Isn’t that enough?”  He tried to make it a joke, but there was a note of. . .something behind it.  Mac couldn’t quite figure out what.

Mac decided to go along with it.  “That’s hardly romantic.  You could have at least gotten me a card.”

Jack turned serious.  “You know me.  I’m no good with words.  Cards are hard.  I never know what’s going to be too much or too little.  Presents are even harder.  If you were a woman, I’d get you jewelry or lingerie, but someone I can’t see you in a slinky negligee.”  Jack grinned at that.

Mac couldn’t help but grin back.  “You could have gotten me tickets.”  He hadn’t meant to sound so pointed.  It was okay.  Really it was.  Jack was right about how emotionally stunted he could be.  It didn’t mean he didn’t care.

“I was going to get tickets to take you to Maker Faire in May,” he said.  “It was going to be a surprise.  I just don’t do Valentine’s Day very well, you know?  I can do the romantic dinner, but you beat me to that.  In terms of presents, I want it to mean something.  I don’t want it to be just some empty, throwaway token.”

Mac wasn’t quite sure what to make of Jack’s speech, so he went back to joking.  “So, you shot a man for me.”  It didn’t come out quite as light as Mac hoped.

“Yeah,” Jack said, seriously, brown eyes intent on Mac’s face, willing him to see what was hidden there.

Mac thought about that.  Really thought about that.  About what it meant for Jack to kill someone for him.  Jack had killed plenty of men, sure, some from afar, some up close, some, Mac knew, even though the other man never talked about it, in cold blood, on orders.  The older agent never did it lightly, though.  Never did it unless there was no other choice.  And he had had choices.  He could have shot the gunman in the shoulder, knocked off his aim.  He could have physically disarmed him.  He could have done any number of things.  Sure, there was a greater risk Mac could have been hurt, but there were options.  Instead, Jack had shot the man.  Shot the man for Mac. 

The enormity of it finally hit Mac.  _Jack had shot someone for him_.  There was only one way Mac could think of to respond for that.  He reached across the table, clasping Jack’s hand tightly in his.  “I love you, too, Jack.”


End file.
